


Bring it on Home to me

by Sevi007



Series: Little, broken, but still good [3]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Bonding Time, Child!Peter, Gen, Past Fic, Probably ooc, Slight spoilers, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 08:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11009583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevi007/pseuds/Sevi007
Summary: One afternoon spent with getting simple groceries and watching over Peter turns into much more than Yondu bargained for, and he is not pleased by that. Damn boy is starting to infect him with these sentiments, he just knows it.





	Bring it on Home to me

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. First time writing for this fandom, so if I made some grave mistakes, feel free to tell me!  
> 2\. Probably OOC. I fell victim to the Dad feels.  
> 3\. Enjoy! =D

It was already getting dark and they _still_ hadn’t gotten all the things they needed.

 

And no matter how much the boy pouted and protested, Yondu was fully content to blame that fact on Peter.

 

It wasn’t the Ravager’s captain who had to dash for every new booth on the whole darn market after all, all but climbing onto the table in his try to get a good look on the things laid out on it. It _also_ didn’t help that every single vendor of every single booth seemed instantly smitten by the excited child and let him dig through their display to his heart’s content, offering him little goodies and snacks to keep or eat.

 

All Yondu could do was trot after the bundle of joy (more like bundle of annoyance, he grumbled in his mind) and smile thinly when everyone cooed over Peter. The boy with his toothy grin and sparkling eyes somehow managed to charm nearly everyone, and it very nearly made Yondu wonder if the boy would not need to steal in the future, but just have to ask nicely.

 

Alas. Even such amusing trains of thoughts didn’t change the fact that he was getting impatient.

But as much as he wished to fling Peter over his shoulder, rob what they needed and be done with it, he couldn’t. They had agreed to lay low on this planet. The _Eclector_ was still heavily damaged from a quarrel with a crew of headhunters, and several of the Ravagers had sustained wounds from poisonous weapons and were down for the count for a time.

 

It didn’t sit well with Yondu, having so few men up and about and having to go to a market to shop like a _normal citizen_ would do, but he wasn’t dumb enough to steer up trouble in such a bad situation. So following Peter like a shadow he did, for a whole afternoon, smirk becoming more and more strained with each “ _What a cute little gentleman!”_ and _“You’re lucky to have such a well-behaved child, sir!”_

 

 _Well-behaved._ Hah. That was nearly an insult for a soon-to-be Ravager. Then again, it _did_ fit young Peter - boy was too soft and cheery and _bright,_ especially when compared to a crook like Yondu, and that would have to change if he wanted to make sure the boy would survive out here.

 

A slight tug at his sleeve made Yondu’s finger twitch, ready to defend himself at any time, even when he already knew that it was Peter hanging onto him. “What’s it, boy?”

“Do you want some?” Peter’s voice was muffled, mouth stuffed full and cheeks puffed up by _something_ he was chewing. With his free hand, the child held up a few colorful drops that seemed to be candy. Another gift from an enamored vendor, most likely.

And he was offering it to Yondu.

 _Too soft_ for sure.

 

“Ya think I look like I’d eat _that?_ ” Yondu barred his teeth as he leaned down just a bit, making sure that the gesture looked like an amused grin for any passersby. “Boy, I’d rather eat _you.”_

Nearly a year ago, this would have made the boy flinch away in fear or hide or at least show _any_ reaction. Back then, Peter had believed every word of such threats.

 

Now, Peter frowned slightly, looking from the candy to Yondu and back, and then shrugged. “’kay.”

And with that, he stuffed the sweets into his own mouth and chewed happily as he skipped ahead, attention already drawn to something else.

 

Really now. The lack of fear and respect was becoming ever so slightly apparent, Yondu mused as he straightened again. Either Terran’s were simply weird and had a death wish in general, or this was just Peter being stupidly trusting towards someone who could kill him with a whistle.

 

“YONDU! I found _batteries!_ COME LOOK!”

_Very likely_ just Peter being stupid.

 

By the time Yondu had caught up with his tiny charge, Peter was all but kneeling on the display, eagerly pointing and prodding at the batteries he had seemingly found all by himself. “Look! Those are the ones we need! I know _exactly_ how they look, those are the ones, we can buy them, yes? Please, please, pleeeeease…”

 

Gripping the scruff of the boy’s neck, eliciting a startled huff, Yondu swung Peter up and around, half turning away from the display as he put the boy back on his feet. Inaudible to those around them, the Ravager murmured, “One more please and one more whinin’ sound and ya will be tonight’s dinner, got it?”

Again, the hoped for feeling of fear stayed away from Peter’s expression. Instead, the boy pointed towards the booth again. “But those are _really_ the batteries we wanted to get!”

“We? No “we” here, boy. Only you want those thingies.”

“I _need_ them.”

“Oh boohoo.”

“Kraglin said you would _get_ them if I came with you. He _promised_ you would!”

 

Damn that son of a… Yondu had to actually resist the urge to swear loudly and heartily. When exactly had Kraglin told the boy _that?!_ Sure, it had been his first mate’s idea that the boy should accompany Yondu on his “shopping trip”, but Kraglin had sworn it was only because Peter had been pouting and whining over his no longer working Walkman which was out of working batteries and the headphones that had been broken in the fight for _days_ now, and Kraglin had needed some time to himself to repair what he could.

 

 _“Some fresh air will probably help,”_ Kraglin had shrugged at Yondu’s glare, grinning sheepishly at the silent threat behind that look. _“Boy’s always plenty distracted when ‘e gets to go with ya, Capt’n. It will cheer him up while I’ll see what I can do ‘ere.”_

Which was how Yondu now found himself with a tiny Terran looking up at him with big, round, pleading eyes and a silent judgement of _It’s a promise after all._

_Ravagers don’ keep no promises, boy._

_Nobody ever does._

_I do even less than others._

_Ya better learn that as soon as you can._

_Stop trusting others already._

_Stop trusting_ me.

 

Such and many more reprimands flitted through Yondu’s mind as he met Peter’s gaze head on, silently lifting an eyebrow, but somehow, he couldn’t find it in himself to voice them aloud.

 

Their staring contest lasted for a few more seconds before Peter seemed to slump into himself, all signs of the bright smile he had worn all afternoon gone as he whispered, “Please?”

Oh for _everything_ in this thrice damned galaxy, he would never hear the end of this if anyone found out about it.

 

Rolling his eyes upwards – he wasn’t one for prayers, but Peter sometimes nearly brought him there – Yondu took a deep breath, clenched his teeth, unclenched them, and then turned to grunt at the vendor, “How much for those little buggers?”

 

The vendor – a Krylorian – smiled wide and friendly but fake, whereas Peter’s loud cheering around the height of his knees was absolutely honest. “That would make twenty-thousand units, Sir.”

“Twenty-thousand?! Ya gotta be friggin’…” Yondu took another deep breath as he reminded himself to _lay low._ “Batteries cost half of that at any other place!”

“Well, Sir, I got them for a very high prize from a broker and had to charge them up myself again, so I do believe the price is reasonable.”

“Reasonable’d be if ya gave me a discount. Five-thousand units.”

“That’s only a quarter of the original price, Sir. Even if I would give you a discount, I cannot possibly go lower than eighteen-thousand units.” The smile that followed was accompanied by a tiny shoulder shrug that seemed almost pitying.

Never had Yondu wished so desperately to unleash his arrow.

 

Gaze flitting over the array on the table, Yondu quickly spotted a few repair parts that would surely come in handy in the future as well as a pair of earphones that looked faintly like they could be from Terra as well.

Never knew when he could need those… if Kraglin couldn’t fix the other ones, for example.

 

Pointing at his founds in quick succession, he growled at the Krylorian, “Add that and I might as well give ya twelve-thousand for all of it.”

The others wide smile told him two things – first, the stuff was not worth even half of what he had just offered and he was being tricked and second, using his arrow was a _really_ tempting option.

“A delight making business with you, good Sir!”

 

Grunting, Yondu started counting down the units he needed, fishing them out of his jacket and shoving them over to the preening guy.

 

A loud, familiar laugh rang out clearly besides him, distracting him from his dark brooding thoughts about possible ways to cut that smile from the vendor’s face without attracting attention.

 

Glancing over, Yondu caught sight of Peter. Boy hadn’t had enough patience to wait right beside him and had strolled over to the next booth instead. There were several cages of tiny, fluffy animals piled over each other, and Peter was currently sticking his index finger through two bars and trying to pet a red-yellow ball of fur.

 

Since the woman behind the table’s counter didn’t seem to be concerned about the boy reaching out for the animals and the animals itself seemed completely harmless, it was probably safe to say that, for once, Peter was not getting into trouble.

 

Yondu still felt compelled to warn his charge, though. „Quill, if that thing bites ya finger off, I don‘ wanna hear _any_ whinin’.”

The boy had the nerve to pout at him for his generous warning. Well, next time he would just watch on when kid lost a finger. Not his problem.

 

Only that the vendor apparently thought it a good idea to start an idle chat with the customer he had just ripped off. He smiled over to where Peter was, commenting, “The energy of children is to be envied.”

“Hm.”

“As well as their ability to enjoy the little things.”

 

Momentarily distracted, Yondu looked up from where he was shoving the goods into a bag, and looked over again himself.

 

Peter had somehow managed to squeeze two fingers through the bars and was now petting the fluffy ball of fur where its muzzle seemed to be. The thing in the cage was making a humming sound that sounded like a mixture of purr and engine rumbling, and Peter was laughing in delight, smile wide and bright enough to light up a whole star system.

 

Boy’s hair was growing too long, falling into his eyes, Yondu thought absentmindedly, taking a mental note that Kraglin would have to help cut it.

 

“Big fan of the Ravagers, your boy, isn’t he? He even looks like a tiny version himself.”

 

Peter was wearing Ravager colors – not a jacket, since he had yet to become a full member of the crew – a smaller version of any Ravager himself with his shirt and the leather boots and the little piece of paper Kraglin had cut out for him and painted in flimsy gold color so that it would look like a tiny Ravager’s badge.

 

“Kiddos these days. Think ’s cool being a pirate,” the lie was smooth, thought out early, right after he had decided to keep the child to himself…

… to the _Ravagers._ Not himself. Wasn’t his brat.

 

“I’m sure he’s quite an entertainment for you, Sir. You’re lucky to have such a nice child.”

“He ain’t mine,” slowly but surely, Yondu began to have a bad feeling about where this conversation was going. Normally, they would swoop in, get their stuff, and get out as fast as possible before anyone could ask too much.

This Krylorian was starting to look too closely for his comfort.

 

“Oh, I can see that, of course, Sir! It’s pretty clear that he’s a…”

 

Another bout of delighted giggles echoed over to them, right when the vendor trailed off and Yondu looked up abruptly, feeling that something was off.

 

„… a… Terran? Now that’s… an unusual sight in these parts…“

 

And there it was. Every alarm bell inside the Centaurian’s mind went off at that.

 

A large array of upcoming profanities never left Yondu’s lips, thundering through his mind unheard.

The similarities between Xandarians and Terrans were a blessing and enough to fool curious eyes most of the time. Xandarians were common all throughout the galaxy, while Terrans were a rare sight to behold.

 

And rare things tended to be noticed. They tended to stay in people’s memories. Yondu could see it, could see the vendor’s eyes widen in surprise and confusion as his mind mulled over the fact that there was not only a child, but a _Terran child_ in _Ravager’s clothing_ following after a Centaurian who was very clearly a Ravager himself.

It was too unique and too weird to be simply overlooked now that it had been noticed.

 

Dread, cold like ice, mingled with the upcoming burning anger in Yondu’s gut.

 

If Peter was too bright, too soft and too weak, then being a tiny, rare Terran child only added a dangerous threat to that.

 

Rare things were collected and thus, what was rare could be stolen and sold off for high prices.

 

The thought of Peter being stolen from right under his nose to be bartered away for who-cares-how-many units nearly made Yondu see red.

The thought of _Ego_ getting wind of the fact that the kid he had never been delivered by the Ravagers still being with them, still being _usable,_ added a dangerous buzzing sound to it.

 

Yondu was pretty sure he all but _radiated_ killing intent as he turned, arrow shivering and heating up in its holster at his hip, his eyes narrowing and whistle ready at any second as he pinpointed the vender with a red glare. All thoughts of laying low and keeping it down were forgotten.

 

The Krylorian’s words died in his throat and his eyes widened as their gazes met. The fact that he had just made the mistake of a lifetime was instantly clear. Something akin to a croaked whimper left him before he fell completely silent, stock still like a little animal in front of a predator.

Yondu made sure to keep eye contact with the other, even as pink eyelids fluttered nervously in a futile attempt to escape his predatory glare.

 

When he was sure that the other was nearly hyperventilating from fear, Yondu spoke, not loud but clear and very, very slowly, “Forget that he was here.”

It took a second for the words to sink in, but when they did, the vendor all but stumbled over his words in his haste to agree, “Y-Yes. Yes, of course!”

“No Terrans ‘ere at all, ya understand ma meaning?

“None. None Terrans at all. H-Haven’t seen one, sir. None at all. Wouldn’t even know what they look like.”

 

“Good,” this time, it was Yondu’s turn to smile, showing off glinting silver crowned teeth as he leaned over the table, plucking the units he had handed over just moments ago out of the frozen Krylorian’s hands. “And since we got that covered, I will just accept ya offer and get ma stuff for free, ain’t that right?”

The following whimper made him smile wider.

 

“Thought so.”

 

In the background, he could still hear Peter laugh happily and babble away, and that made his victory all the sweeter.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ G ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Did we really have to go already?”

“What did I tell ya about whinin’, boy?”

“But the animals were so cute!”

 

Sometimes Yondu tried to remember why exactly he had thought it a good idea to keep the boy and utterly failed at it.

 

Peter was huffing and panting behind him, short legs failing at keeping up with Yondu’s much longer ones. Where the Ravager made one step, the boy needed two and a half, and for the good part of the last fifteen minutes, Peter had hastened after Yondu with the gap between them not getting any smaller.

 

But out of breath and running or not, Peter still wouldn’t be silenced. “Yondu? Can I have a pet?”

“Hell no,” Yondu grumbled back, adjusting the grocery bag he carried in the crook of his arm. A pet was the last thing he needed. Peter was already a hazard to look after.

“But I would take good care of it, and feed it, and be really nice to it.”

“Ravagers don’ keep no pets, boy. You’re still too soft, I keep tellin’ ya that.”

 

Surprisingly, there was no arguing about that, nor any grumbling or sass. Normally, that would have been the normal reaction to the Captain giving out orders.

But Peter wasn’t _normal._

Groaning internally, Yondu stopped in his stride and turned around, groaning _aloud_ when he saw Peter standing there, hands on his knees, and trying to catch his breath. “Boy, I’m gonna leave ya here, I swear.”

“Then… go… ahead,” Peter managed to get out, bottom lip already sticking out far enough to count as a pout.

Yondu was _definitely_ going to count that as a pout.

 

“Get it together and keep up, kid.”

“I’m _trying.”_

“Not hard enough.”

“I’m not gonna be any faster, you can just leave me here if I’m not fast enough for you!”

“Oho? Kiddo, ya think you can protect yourself all alone out ‘ere, huh?”

“Sure I can!”

„Well, I’m not gonna help ya if something tries an‘ eats ya.“

“You guys are the only ones who want to eat me.”

 

Well, that was what he had made the boy believe in the year or so he had been with them, so he probably couldn’t really argue with that.

But this was not getting them anywhere.

 

Contemplating the situation at hand, Yondu murmured darkly to himself. Part of him wanted to laugh at Peter – it was his own fault for running over the whole market like a madman the whole afternoon, no wonder he was tired – but then again, this was, with a stretch, also _his_ problem. There was no way he let the boy stay the night here alone. Taking a break in the middle of nowhere and in the dark without backup seemed not any better.

 

With deep sigh and once again asking himself _Why?_ , Yondu surrendered and turned his back to Peter. “Jump up.”

“H-Huh?”

“Something wrong with those ears of yours? Jump I said, before I leave ya here.”

Peter’s gaze seemed to drill into his back and it was unnerving. Yondu actually had to grit his teeth to stay calm and still. Turning his back on someone, offering them an opening, was not something he would do willingly in any other situation.

“…You’re too tall. I can’t jump up…”

“When ya tell _anyone_ about this, boy,” Yondu growled as he went down to one knee, waiting for Peter to climb up onto his back. “I swear, one _peep…”_

“Then you’re going to eat me?”

The ever so slight amusement in Peter’s voice made Yondu want to drop the brat straight away, but he refrained… with some struggle.

 

“You will _wish_ I had eaten ya, because it will seem _nicer_ than the other option.”

“Okay.”

That still sounded neither impressed nor frightened as it should have, and something about the ease with which Peter slung his thin arms around the Centaurian’s neck, holding on and trusting not get dropped, made it very hard to believe that there was _any_ fear directed at the Ravager in the boy.

 

He should have been worried about that. It would cause trouble in the future, he just knew it. Child or not, Terran or not, Peter would have to come to respect and, most likely, even fear him, else Peter as well as Yondu would have to explain their softness to the crew rather sooner than latter. And things like that did never end well in their business.

 

Lost in his thoughts, Yondu almost jolted as Peter clapped his shoulder all of a sudden, exclaiming painfully loud right next to the Ravager’s ear, “Yondu, _look!”_

“Boy, would ya _stop yellin’ in my ear!”_

“Sorry! But, _look!”_

 

Glaring over his shoulder, Yondu noted that Peter wasn’t even paying attention to his annoyance, instead pointing up at the sky insistently.

Deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to amuse the boy before he started yelling again, Yondu stopped in his walk and glanced up.

 

The night sky stretched above them, full of stars small and big and nebulas spinning slowly in between. It wasn’t anything spectacular, not in the life they lead and the star systems they had already seen and flown through.

 

“Ain’t anything to be seen there, kid.”

“There _is,”_ this time, Peter was smart enough not to yell, instead nearly whispered, but no less insistent than before. “Look. Isn’t that the Earth over there?”

“Huh?”

“There. Look, that blue dot. That’s Earth, right?”

 

Following the finger pointing up, Yondu noted that there really _was_ a tiny blue dot a bit to the right, nearly invincible in the ever so slowly changing sky. He couldn’t possible tell if it really was Earth the boy was pointing at – Earth or Terra, as he knew it, was lightyears away, and it had been nearly a year since he had last tried to pinpoint the location of the blue planet he had abducted the child from.

In all honesty, all he had cared about was to be as far away as possible from both Terra and Ego.

 

“Yondu? It is Earth, right?”

Blinking, Yondu frowned, biting back an annoyed and exasperated sigh. There was a telltale of a tremor in Peter’s voice, ever so slight disappointment and fear and it was so human, so _Peter…_

This boy and his soft heart would get both of them into trouble one day.

 

“It really is, boy. Would’cha look at that, ya finally found something on your own.”

 

The words left him before he really could overthink them, and Yondu very nearly snarled at himself for it. Lies he could live with, speaking them without batting an eyelash, but lying to save someone’s heart was just not a Ravager’s thing to do.

 

“See? I told you I would be good at navigating one day!” The tremor was gone, Peter’s voice as cheerful again as it could possibly be, and it nearly made Yondu bark out a laugh.

“Don’t let it go to your head, Quill.”

“I found Earth all alone. I _am_ getting better, you have to confess that!”

“Sure kid. Sure.”

 

There was a long pause after that, not the bragging he had expected, and Yondu could all but _hear_ the gears in the boy’s head working. So he wasn’t surprised at all when there was another question, even if he was slightly exasperated about it.

 

„Yondu?“

„What’s it _now_ , boy?“

“Where is _your_ home?”

 

 _That_ however, Yondu had not expected, and it nearly made him falter in his step before he caught himself, walking only a bit faster than necessary.

 

Home. Him. Of all the things Peter could have asked for…

 

He could have tried to get him off his back – figuratively speaking - by giving him a short answer. A star system, a planet. Perhaps even lied and just named a random planet as his home. No further explanation needed after all, and if the boy insisted to know more Yondu could just threaten to let him be eaten again.

Sounded like a plan.

 

So he would never, not even years later, understand why he answered, “Ship’s my home. Don’ need no more than that, kiddo.”

 

A moment of silence ticked by. It was unnerving, having loud, babbling Peter actually fall _silent_ for once, and Yondu wasn’t sure if that was a good or a very, very bad silence.

 

“Mum always said that home is where the heart is,” Peter whispered finally.

“That some sort of Terran saying or what?”

“Dunno. I didn’t really get what she meant by that.”

 

“Well,” Yondu cleared his throat, smirk painting his features as he regained some semblance of control again. Tilting his head back that he could be sure the boy was face by his sharp, glittering teeth – more a snarl than a smile – and drawled. “Whatever she meant, your momma clearly didn’t know _me_. I don’ have a heart, don’ forget that, Quill.”

 

Blue eyes looked back at him with eerie calm, the expression reflected in the blue something far too old for such a young child and yet so full of naiveté that it was almost unbearable to look at. It made Yondu’s smirk fall as fast as it had come.

 

“Not true,” said Peter, voice steady and _again_ a little Terran dared to go against everything Yondu said without fear, even when there was a glowing arrow right next to him and he could probably break the kid’s neck with his bare hands and still, still…

“Not true,” Peter repeated, gaze never leaving the red one boring into it. “You just _said_ that you have a home. So you have to have a heart, too.”

 

He could have slapped Yondu in the face, the boy could have, and it would have elicited the same reaction. Yondu blinked, speechless as well as flabbergasted with how much ease the child dared to go up against him and rip down his armor just like that. Did he even do that consciously? Or was this, too, just a trait unique to Peter? One he wasn’t even aware of?

 

Still contemplating and trying to get his thoughts in order, Yondu was saved once again by Peter’s rather short attention span. Seemingly already half forgotten about their conversation, the boy suddenly pointed again, upwards, and declared – loud, but not with yelling – “Oh! That constellation there!”

“What ‘bout it?”

“I know that one!”

“Do ya now,” Yondu muttered, slowly starting to walk again, still lost in thought over what had just taken place. Perhaps he _really_ was getting soft… catching _sentiments_ from a tiny Terran as if it were germs. Was that even a possibility? If it was then that was _definitely_ what was happening. Boy was _infecting him._

That couldn’t be good at all.

 

“… and this one, that’s the Taser constellation, and that there, that’s the…”

 

Something in the boy’s constant babbling caught Yondu’s interest, enough that he interrupted, “The what now? Taser what?”

“Taser constellation!” Peter repeated, already taking a breath to rant on.

Yondu didn’t let it come to that, “Wait, wait! Who the actual _fuck_ taught ya that bullshit?!”

 

Peter stopped in his explanation, finger still outstretched and pointing to a bunch of stars as he frowned at Yondu as best as he could in their position. “The others did.”

“The _others.”_

“Horuz. And Taserface did, too. I wanted to ask Kraglin but he didn’t have time and…”

“Well, Horuz can’t navigate for shit and Taserface is as dumb as he’s ugly, so sure as hell ain’t gonna trust what he says about stars and stuff, Quill,” Yondu shook his head. What a bunch of jackasses! Did he have to teach the kid everything himself or what?!

 

He could see Peter mouth the line “ _dumb as he is ugly_ ” silently to himself, eyes glittering and smile spreading over the child’s face, and Yondu already estimated that Taserface would get to hear that line very, very soon.

He didn’t really feel bad knowing that. Here was hope that Peter still fit into the vents in order to hide, though.

 

“Now ya listen to me,” whistling, Yondu called up his arrow, the weapon flitting from its holster up to the height of its masters head, before he whistled again, quickly and cheerfully.

Peter laughed in delight, as the glowing weapon barely missed his ear, circling the both of them before shooting up into the sky.

 

It took some concentration, but a particular slow tune enabled Yondu to send the Yaka arrow flying from one star to the other, the glowing red tail drawing a line between the celestial bodies it passed.

 

“See that?” Yondu stated as the arrow was hovering next to his shoulder again. “That’s not some Taser constellation named by some jackass – that’s the Nova constellation.”

“Nova? Like the Impire?”

“Empire. Yeah, like that. Bastards slap their name on everythin’ they get.”

“Oooh. Wait, then… what’s that planet there? It’s all glow-y!”

“That’s ‘cause it’s a sun, kid. A tiny one, but a sun it is.”

“Do you know others?!”

 

Glancing over his shoulder, Yondu caught a glimpse of glittering blue eyes and a toothy smile as bright as any sun in any solar system, and he smirked.

This he could deal with, once in a while. Enough of the sass and the mushy stuff – this here was _easy._

“Ya bet I do, Quill.”

Peter was all but shivering with excitement now, fingers digging into Yondu’s leather jacket until the material groaned in protest as the boy beamed. “ _Tell me!”_

And he did.

 

On and on Yondu’s explanation went, listing off the constellations and planets he could remember off the cuff, half hoping that he got most of them right.

 

He didn’t know how long that had been going on, or how close to the ship they were by the time he paused, not knowing any more to say.

It was only then that it registered how silent Peter had gotten.

 

Before, the boy’s awed exclamations and further questions had been constant, mixed in with bright, cheery laughter when Yondu had added an anecdote of his own experiences on some of the mentioned planets. Now, Peter’s chin was digging only a bit uncomfortably into the Ravager’s shoulder, warm breath washing over the blue skin of his neck – deep and steady breathing.

Peter had fallen asleep at some point and was now _sleeping_ on his _back._

Yondu felt torn between disbelieving amusement and annoyance at the fact that the child had fallen asleep in the middle of his explanation.

And how dare he sleep on his back, anyway?

 

“Quill.”

No reaction at all.

“Quill. You better wake up now, kid,” carrying him was bad enough, but carrying him while he kept drooling on him? No way in the whole damn galaxy.

Peter’s nose wrinkled as he sniffled, shivering. Mumbling, the boy turned his head slightly, and _buried_ his face in the crook of Yondu’s neck.

 

Yondu very nearly started cussing at that, caught on the wrong foot completely by the boy’s sudden clinginess, had the motion not pressed the tip of Peter’s nose against his warm neck.

The nose was as cold as an icicle.

 

Suddenly, the tiny tremor’s running through the little bundle on his back had a whole different meaning. Peter had been freezing this whole time and he hadn’t even noticed… wait. Didn’t Terrans run a different body temperature than Centaurians like himself?

Did that mean little Terrans could get hypothermia faster than he himself would?

 

Now Yondu really started cussing. Silently, but insistently.

Nothing but trouble with this kid.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ G ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

All was quiet on the _Eclector,_ apart from the faint humming of the engines that kept the light sources needed in the night and the alarm system running. No hollering, stomping feet, bellowed orders or coarse laughter was to be heard. Missing was the sound of a lively child, laughing and yelling or singing, eliciting loud yells from crewmembers and, very rarely, from the Captain himself.

 

Kraglin found it oddly _lacking,_ the ship at night without anything happening on board. A quiet man himself, he rather enjoyed hearing his lively crewmembers go about their day, and greatly enjoyed watching whatever Yondu and Peter came up with again, even though it often meant trouble.

They always got out of trouble again, somehow, sly and smart as they were, so it wasn’t _that_ bad.

 

Then again, the silence and peace gave him the opportunity he had been looking for all day, and just now, he had finished his little project.

 

Back hurting from the near two hours he had spent sitting bent over his desk, Kraglin stretched with a groan before he sat up straight to inspect his work. Lifting the headphones he had taken from a pouty Peter this morning, and smirking proudly, Kraglin fit the second cushion back in its place and fastened it with wire and a tiny drop of glue.

Done.

That was the last piece that had been torn off as Peter had been flung against a wall by one of the attacking headhunters, and with this, the headphones looked _nearly_ the same as they had done before.

 

The headhunter – well, that was another story. He would never look the same again, dead or alive. Kraglin remembered for a second how Yondu’s arrow had pierced through the large alien multiple times, in rapid succession and without any mercy, before the Captain had stopped in his attack long enough to check up on Peter with a quick glance. Boy had had a bump and been crying angry tears over his broken headphones, but Kraglin had been glad that it wasn’t worse. Headphones could be fixed, bumps could heal, but if the boy had broken his neck… he had no idea what Yondu would have done then.

 

His communicator starting to hum and beep next to him tore him from his dark memories. Shaking his head, Kraglin reached over, placing the headphones carefully down to answer the call. There weren’t many people who knew the direct line to this com, and it was very likely an emergency when he was called.

 

“Yeah?”

“ _Kraglin.”_

Brightening, Kraglin greeted, “Capt’n! Ya’re back.”

 _“Almost,”_ there was a pause on the other end, and Kraglin heard some shuffling, before Yondu spoke again. “ _I need ya to open the cargo hatch for me.”_

Kraglin hesitated for a second, dumbfounded. The cargo hatch was closed and only able to open from the inside, whereas the front entrance was accessible for any Ravager at any time of the day. There was no point in preferring the first over the latter.

 

But Kraglin had stopped questioning Yondu years ago. “On my way, Capt’n.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ G ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Waiting as the cargo hatch moved upwards slowly, Kraglin was greeted with the most surprising sight of his whole lifetime.

 

Yondu stood, slightly hunched forward, with a grocery bag stuffed full resting on his bent arm, pressed against his chest. His free arm was slung under Peter to support the boy where he was sleeping contentedly on the Ravager Captain’s back.

And as if that wasn’t enough – Yondu had shrugged off his praised Ravager jacket and thrown it over Peter’s shoulders instead. The piece of clothing was too large, all but swallowing little Peter up, but that was the _least_ surprising thing in the whole picture.

 

Kraglin couldn’t help it – he could all but _feel_ his jaw slowly dropping.

It seemed as if Yondu caught on immediately, snarling at him. “Stop that gaping and help me.”

 

“S-Sure, Capt’n,” Kraglin darted over, stopping next to Yondu since he wasn’t sure if he should take the grocery bag or the sleeping Peter.

Yondu didn’t let him take either, huffing impatiently as he nodded towards the bag. “Top. Batteries. Try if they work with the kid’s toy.”

“Right.”

 

There as an awkward pause as Kraglin dug the batteries out of the bag and fiddled them into Peter’s Walkman (he had seen the boy doing so before, but he was a little confused about the whole thing where to put which end of the batteries.) Finally, it clicked, and the Walkman started to whirr quietly.

 

“Got’cha,” Kraglin muttered in quiet triumph, grinning up at Yondu as he did so.

For a second, he believed to see something like a smile flicker over the Captain’s face, before it was gone again, replaced by a frown and another glare. “The headphones?”

“As good as new, Capt’n!”

 

Yondu lifted an eyebrow, and the invitation was clear. Glad that he had thought ahead, Kraglin took the headphones out of the pocket he had stuffed them into before coming here, offering them only slightly shaky to the Centaurian. He had done his best, but he hadn’t had a change to test them, with the Walkman running empty…

 

After a quick inspection, Yondu seemed satisfied, almost relieved with what he saw. He nodded to himself, dropping headphones onto his bags before hesitating. Then, quietly, he added, “Good job, Kraglin.”

 

Blinking rapidly, the Xandarian needed a second to actually understand what he just had heard. Praise or kind words from the Captain were rare, very rare, and even if he – next to Peter – was probably the one and only guy in the galaxy who knew best that there actually _was_ a heart under Yondu’s cold façade, it was still a treasure that he had just been granted with.

 

“Anytime, Capt’n,” he assured with a wide smile – probably unfitting for a Ravager – and couldn’t help but stand a bit straighter in his pride.

 

If the moment of “weakness” and “sentiment” bothered Yondu, then he didn’t show it. He huffed quietly, shaking his head ever so slightly, before adjusting his grip on Peter and bag and nodding down the hallway. “Off to ya bunk with ya. You’ve got duty come morrow.”

“Aye, Capt’n!... Uh, should I help with Pete or…?”

“I’m taking care of that. Close the hatch, then scamper off, Kraglin.”

 

They shared nods instead of goodbyes, Kraglin smiling fleetingly at sleeping little Peter before he turned and pretended to be occupied with the control panel to the cargo hatch. He would give Yondu the time to get to his own room without following him like a shadow.

Yondu smirked over the silent understanding his first mate once again proved and made his way down the mass of hallways inside his ship.

 

Knowing exactly which ways to follow in order to avoid any crewmembers taking the night watch or those who had been drinking in the assembly room, Yondu moved as silently to his room as a ghost, meeting no one and not being seen by anyone.

It was everyone’s luck that he didn’t run into anyone, because he was sure as hell not in the mood to explain why he carried a child on his back.

 

Opening the door to his room with one elbow to the control panel in front of it, Yondu slipped through the crack and immediately closed the door behind himself and his charge, relaxing ever so slightly as he was away from prying eyes. Dropping the bag with groceries into a corner – he would take care of them come morning – he contemplated where to put down Peter for a second, before he huffed. Nothing for it. There wasn’t much to decide.

 

It took some struggling and pausing, hovering whenever the boy threatened to wake up, but finally, Yondu managed to slip Peter off his back and into his bed without any bigger hassle. Peter refused to let go of the jacket’s sleeve, so Yondu surrendered that, too, with a roll of his eyes, nearly snorting in mocking amusement as Peter cuddled against the jacket like a stuffed animal.

 

Contemplating the sight for a second – boy rolled tightly around and into his jacket, a little ball that still took up a good part of the bed – Yondu frowned, remembering that he had never seen Peter sleep without his beloved Walkman and music.

 _Nightmares_ had the boy murmured weakly as Yondu had questioned him about it, annoyed at the fact that the child never heard any wakeup-calls because of his headphones.

 

Turning, Yondu made the few steps over the bag, digging the newly fixed headphones and Walkman out of it. It took him a while, fiddling around in the dark that not even his slight night vision could fully penetrate, but he managed to plug in the headphones, lift Peter’s head up ever so slightly and slip the headphones over the child’s ears.

 

There was a huff and a sniffle, but Peter didn’t wake up. Sure had a deep sleep, the boy.

 

It took Yondu a moment to figure out which button on the Walkman turned the device on, but when he did, the unmistakable first tunes of that one song on the boy’s tracklist… something along the line of “ _I’m not in love”,_ Yondu could make out, close as he was to the headphones and with as sharp as his ears were. It made him huff, not understanding the appeal of the songs and the music, but as long as it guaranteed the Peter’s peaceful sleep, he would just overlook it.

 

Peter murmured something in his sleep and sniffled, and Yondu froze mid-motion while trying to stand up. But the boy only rolled into a tighter ball, dragging the Ravager’s jacket closer to his chest and hiding his face in it, before he lay still again. Only deep, calm breaths were audible, together with the faint sound of music and the even fainter sound of creaking leather.

 

Exhaling slowly, tension leaving his body, Yondu stood as silently as he had crouched down, grinning crookedly at the side of Peter mashing his face against the worn leather. Boy would have imprints from the fabric on his skin the next day without a doubt.

But again – that was not Yondu’s problem, after all.

 

His problem was rather where he would sleep this night.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ G ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When Peter awoke, he was warm.

 

That in itself was slightly surprising, since the Ravager’s ship was never really warm and far from cozy, but it wasn’t surprising enough for the sleepy boy to startle upright. Rather he sighed contentedly, huddling deeper under the source of warm that his blanket provided, and dozing.

 

He stayed like that for a while, drifting in and out of consciousness, until a part of him picked up the distinct scratching sound of his mixtape coming to a halt and stopping as the record run out.

Huffing, Peter grumbled sleepily, cracking one eye open… and froze.

 

Mixtape? His mixtape!

 

Snapping his eyes open completely, Peter’s hand shooting up feel what was over his head.

His headphones! And they were attached to his – turned on – Walkman!

 

A wide, brilliant smile stretched over the boy’s face as his fingers found the familiar, worn cushion and the headband made of plastic, gently tracing the curves. The weight and pressure was familiar and comforting and it took all of Peter’s will not to start crying in relieve. For a few days, he had thought he had lost the last thing that reminded him of Mum, and now it was here, it was fixed, and there were even working batteries for it again.

 

He would have to thank Kraglin, Peter thought, eagerly trying to kick of the surprisingly heavy blanket. And, oh, Yondu, too, even though the man had threatened not to get him the batteries.

Speaking of which… where _was_ Yondu?

 

Peter stilled, fingers fumbling over the blanket. That wasn’t his blanket. This was… leather? Looking down, Peter very nearly _gaped_ as he recognized the piece of leather as Yondu’s jacket. He had used the jacket as a blanket.

Yondu would be so, so angry if he found that out.

 

And, again, where was Yondu? He had been carried on the man’s back that was the last thing he remembered…

 

Slowly, carefully, Peter turned in the bed – which wasn’t his, as he recognized now – and looked for some kind of evidence that would tell him where he was and what had happened after he had fallen asleep.

 

A stuttering, muffled sound, barely audible through his headphones, was the first telltale sign. The flash of blue and red, familiar in itself, the second.

 

Blearily blinking, not quite trusting his eyes at first, Peter could feel a smile stretch over his features, tiredness and confusion forgotten instantly.

 

Yondu was sitting in his office chair, legs hosted up and crossed on the lumpy table he called a desk, arms folded over his chest. Head tipping back slightly, mouth opened just enough that Peter could catch sight of the silver blinking between his teeth, the Ravager captain snored quietly, filling the room with a steady, familiar sound.

 

Peter snorted, then quickly covered his mouth with the edge of Yondu’s jacket as not to start laughing and wake the other. He wouldn’t want to ruin that picture of snoring-sleeping-peaceful Yondu just to have the Ravager yell at him or kick him out of the room.

 

Getting a little bit more comfortable, slipping his headphones off to let them dangle around his neck, hugging the leather tightly to his chest and head filled with the dissonant music that was entirely Yondu’s, Peter watched on with half-lidded eyes, smiling contentedly as he soaked up the short moment of peace as he cuddled against the mattress (of Yondu’s bed, as he understood now.)

 

It had been a long time since anything had felt so like _home_ as it did now.

 

He really, really needed to say a few thank you’s later , Peter decided as his eyelids dropped, lulled back into sleep by the quiet, constant sound and the knowledge that he was safe and watched over for the time being.

 

Just before his consciousness slipped completely, a thought flashed through Peter’s mind, and he smiled widely.

 

_He was home._


End file.
